escapist notions
stick, stuck to
a life of my
(your) choosing.
is this a space that could
be shifted so easily?
walk from this room, this place
To another familiar
an anomaly in the
absence of a new solidarity.
How will it happen?
is it a choice,
is it my choice?
a conscious decision
the next move
shifting perspectives—
in my awareness remains:
“i don’t know
who you are anymore.”
the path is on
i see it bowing
an echo of what
came before me and
what must be etched
after me.
the secret of my wavering
known like written words
stretched unwillingly against
giving paper.
Submission Name: Motion
